


The V. Secret Diary of Samuel T. Anders, Final Fiver

by ivanolix



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack, Gen, Humor, Pre-Canon, Very Secret Diary, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-07
Updated: 2009-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanolix/pseuds/ivanolix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When your life looks like it's on crack, and you're surrounded by the crazy, what's a lone Final Fiver to do but pour out his thoughts onto paper?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The V. Secret Diary of Samuel T. Anders, Final Fiver

**Author's Note:**

> Serious crack warning, heh. However, a only slightly less crack-y version of this is my personal canon of how the whole Final Five thing went, with the head!people and creating the Cylons, etc. Still. This is crack. Done in the style of the famous Very Secret Diaries of LOTR characters.

Dear diary,  
Angel in my head has left me. Have decided to call her head angel because is two words less to write. Another reason...but never mind, should not be recording such base things. Oh. Home planet destroyed, am one part of only five survivors. Am also stuck on small ship traveling at subluminal speeds, headed towards human colonies. Feel strangely invalidated, despite apocalyptic predictions coming true. Could be because no non-believer audience left. Feel depressed, too.

Dear diary,  
No sign of head angel yet. Am thinking that perhaps should have thought more carefully before joining small secret research group to resurrect resurrection. Could have chosen more stable companions. Am worried that Tighs will figure out soon that they resurrected into older bodies than rest. Ensuing argument might doom us all. Perhaps should not complain so much about loud sex, as is distracting them for now.

Dear diary,  
Tory and Galen offered themselves for a threesome. Accepted. Was fun, but think I may be losing my mind. Head angel would know, but is suspiciously absent. Perhaps she was watching. Also, Ellen is giving me strange looks.

Dear diary,  
Had strange dream where was stuck on small ship with all four coworkers in a giant orgy. Managed to avoid Saul, but was thoroughly mauled by Ellen; Tory and Galen fine, of course. Then woke without clothes in heap with...four coworkers. Would prefer next time that dreams are not so realistic. Maybe that is symptom of losing my mind. Still no head angel.

Dear diary,  
Have calculated that three and a half days in this ship equal one year outside in space. Not sure which one seems longer. Head angel would probably say something about relativity and then laugh and shrug it off.

Dear diary,  
In absence of head angel, have decided to bring about next apocalypse in her place. Have rewritten “Watchtower” as a round, and have also reminded coworkers that we are the final five Cylons left in the universe. Will find it enjoyable to watch their brains leak out their ears, if voice holds out long enough.

Dear diary,  
Brains of coworkers thoroughly intact, own jaw possibly less so. Have decided that insanity could make coworkers do illogical things, such as kill each other despite dwindled numbers. No head angel still. :-(

Dear diary,  
Have finally escaped ship for short while. Planet appears overexposed and dry, but all water sources are green. Tory insisted was only light illusion, and I am now currently attempting to provoke Galen to release his laughter at her strange new tint. Ellen discovered greenness was algae, and as it has no lubricant qualities, has decided it is useless for us. Would rather forget that statement, actually. Possibly a good thing that head angel isn’t here to exploit it.

Dear diary,  
Have reached human colonies. Have nearly been killed by impulsive humans and their strangely familiar servant robots. Wonder if am last sane person in universe, truly. No head angel.

Dear diary,  
Seeing humans has made Ellen nostalgic. Has stopped thinking about sex and has remembered desire for children. All are finding it disturbing that she is turning to robots first. Think Saul looks annoyed. No head angel to comment.

Dear diary,  
Robots are called Cylons too. Weird. Really miss talking to head angel. And...other things. Never mind.

Dear diary,  
Cylons are fascinated with Ellen. Should not be surprised. Have all made truce, but are not telling humans why. Cylons want to return to humans with proof of sentience: more human-looking models. Suspect they are also tired of current gene pool. Have seen their home movies and sympathize. Have been designing new Colony for them to build. Tory keeps insisting that should be only functional. Added few extra horns for that. Head angel should be here to make some bawdy joke.

Dear diary,  
Have no interest in creating life. Am frightened of Ellen’s cooing over Tory’s computer programming. Have taken to brewing alcohol with Saul and getting to know fellow Cylons of robot variety. Feel strangely narcissistic talking to them and being able to see own face reflected the whole time. Find hybrids intriguing, though. Have spent hours listening to them. Wonder what would happen if I start babbling and ignoring people too. Suppose I tried that once, before knew that head angel was...just head.

Dear diary,  
Planned new Cylons might be truly revolutionary. Have seen Tory’s programming, and seems complex enough. Galen has incredible artificial organs being designed, and Ellen is working on special ingredient. Have been assigned to issue of sentience and souls. Decided that if Cylons will be subjected to Ellen’s design style, then should at least be able to blame flaws on human nature at core despite having free will, just like everyone else does.

Dear diary,  
First new Cylon personality is ready for uploading. Discovered that can only develop up to child’s personality, so all Cylons must undergo sped-up childhood before duplication. Have been drowning out with beer all thoughts of these children having Ellen as their mother, as is too depressing. No head angel.

Dear diary,  
Has been many months. First Cylon child John is teenager now, and has inexplicably learned the unfortunate phrase “I’m number One!” since learning that next child will be ‘born’ soon. Having talked to Tory about this child’s personality, am reasonably certain it will be better off. No head angel.

Dear diary,  
Second Cylon child Leoben clearly given final touch from Tory, despite my influence. Rather off. Found him sitting in pool of bath water, and when asked to explain himself, he said that he was a hybrid. Told him he was getting pruned and sent him to dry up. Kids. NHA

Dear diary,  
Am finding life on Colony insane. Cylon children D’Anna, Simon, and Aaron bicker with older brother John. Not sure if Leoben is wise or mentally damaged by all this, since he mostly sits by hybrid. Then again, she is only woman in his life who is not family and he has mind of twelve-year-old for now, so maybe should not blame him. NHA

Dear diary,  
Am mortified to find that sixth Cylon child was not named. Why does Saul still trust Ellen with children? At least this one most like her; should survive fine. As long as does not tune into Human Colonies’ broadcasts. Ellen might not care, but I refuse to allow godchild to grow up with name like “Bunny” or “Winter”. NHA

Dear diary,  
Am overwhelmed by Cylon children. Finally convinced Ellen that eight was enough. Would say I have no idea why they follow me instead of their mother, but...know better. Am building up strength by being forced to walk everywhere with Daniel hugging one ankle and Sharon the other. NHA is good update today, as do not wish to be laughed at. Am super sensitive robot scientist rockstar with mean talent for pyramid, not babysitter.

Dear diary,  
Am glad to see Cylon children finally grown and ready for copies to be made. Am slightly disturbed, though, to see final appearance of some. Can see why John has been sulking lately. NHA

Dear diary,  
Suspect this will be last entry. You know, you raise children—or, well, help raise them—well, be their half absent god-uncle—and then they turn around and kill their siblings and suffocate you and their parents in an airlock. On second thought, maybe just these children. Head angel still did not appear. Am dying tragically now, I suppose.  



End file.
